Chased Away
by swallowfatewings
Summary: Chase gets sucked into the Wizarding World, and is given a task by Dumbledore to perform on House. With the help of our beloved trio, Harry, Hermione and Ron, Chase might just succeed, but where will Chase's loyalty lie in the end?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. It's fun :P**

**Oh, and I own nothing, which gives me the freedom to f*** up the characters without any concern, lol. My respects to the owners, though; I Adore Ya!**

Chase wasn't feeling his best this morning, and House knew that. It was the third time that the young doctor suggested a disease that again didn't make any sense. "Could be…"

House tolerated enough. His palms rid the back of the chair he stood behind and he lifted his bright blue eyes. Cameron and Foreman who were sitting nearby widened their eyes at House's upcoming fury, which always included Chase. They glanced towards the blond doctor before House could scold him.

But their elder's anger just came out as a subtle exhalation, and he said, "Chase," he sighed. "Go get me a coffee and don't come back till you've raked your pretty blond out of your nonsense of this morning."

Enraged, Chase tread the corridor that lead to the coffee machine. Nurses and doctors cleared out of his way, recognizing and knowing how unpleasant House's affect on his team member could be.

Chase reached the coffee machine and pierced his hand through his pocket. Coins splattered the ground noisily, when he took one out and slid into the slot of the machine. He was still muttering while he pressed the buttons with rage, barely caring whether he was pushing the right ones or not. He pressed enough buttons. Suddenly, just when he was about to stand upright again and wait for the machine to pour his order, he noticed a weird smudge on one of the buttons he'd pushed. Carefully, he started to probe the red stain, when suddenly a face with long drooping skin-colored ears and a long noise grinned at him and cried cheerfully in a squeaky voice, "Harry!"

Chase yelled and jumped back. He looked around at the startled, staring people around him, before he looked back at the smudge. The face was gone, but the smudge wasn't. He wondered whether House drugged him, but he hadn't eaten or drunk anything since he came this morning.

Slowly, he reached for the smudge again, and this time, when he stroked it, he found himself in a completely different place. It was indeed peculiar. He was standing in what looked like a classroom with students still shuffling in their seats, still waiting for the lesson to start. The student stared at him when he clearly appeared out of thin air. Chase wrinkled an eyebrow, annoyed that that didn't bother the student at all. In the back corner, he saw a boy with ruffled black hair, and obvious green eyes talking to something hidden under his desk.

"Where's Professor Snape?" one of the students asked Chase, but Chase didn't answer. He was making his way with great interest towards the boy with black hair and – a scar, Chase noticed. He could see the flapping ears from afar, and that's why he went to the boy's desk to investigate. He found the same face that appeared to him before he came here talking to the boy and the boy was trying to make him go away.

"Harry Potter," the strange little man squeaked. "Dobby is so glad to see that Harry is not hurt."

"I'm okay, Dobby, now, _please_, leave," said the boy called Harry Potter. "Snape is –"

At that moment, a bushy brown-haired girl sitting next to him elbowed him, causing Harry to look up and stare at Chase in first, fear, then astonishment, then, Chase didn't know why, relief. A boy sitting next to the girl was grinning with what Chase described as the joy of an elephant and looking up at the doctor.

"Are you a replacement? Is Snape gone?"

"Of course, not," said the girl in a huff. She clearly disliked that red-haired boy. She glanced up at Chase. "Don't get your hopes up. Snape never leaves. Unless…"

"He's finally taken the Defense Against the Dark Arts positions."

The girl wriggled uncomfortably in her place, still eyeing Chase. "I doubt that," she self-importantly said, but nervously, as well. Chase narrowed his eyes and turned back to the boy called Harry Potter. The strange man had gone now and the boy had his elbows on his desk, looking up at him with as much curiosity as the rest of the now silenced students.

"Excuse me," Chase said edgily. "What is this place?"

The annoying brown-haired girl interrupted again, arcing her eyebrow. "You mean, this classroom?"

"No… yes…" Chase didn't know what to think. He looked around. "Why are you all dressed in robes?"

A hard clank sounded from the front of the classroom where Chase had appeared, and thinking it was House's cane, he slid quickly under the desks of the Harry boy and the annoying girl. He glanced at him to each other for a second, before they turned back to their front with what, Chase couldn't believe it, the same look him, Cameron and Foreman gave House, at least, when they first started working for him.

The lesson started. The weird, obscured professor who was giving them the lesson gave them some strange instructions, accompanied by ingredients of some of the most disgusting things Chase, the doctor, had heard of. Cat bile, cockroach whiskers, guts of salamander, and bat eyes for God's sakes. Chase had taken a peek at the board where that was written and marveled the speed of the professor's writing. He didn't get a chance to glance at the teacher himself, though.

"Are you alright?" asked the girl, whose desk he was hiding under.

"Fine," Chase said through his wince.

"Ugh, I still got it wrong."

"Harry," said the girl, turning to the boy with a sigh. "It's _only_ one teaspoon of ant feces, not two."

Chase couldn't tolerate it and made a retching sound.

"Shhhh," said the three children at once.

Yet, from the looks on their faces, Chase could tell that he wasn't saved. The three pair of green, blue and brown eyes watched carefully the front of the classroom, till the clanking boots, which the teenagers' pupils were following, neared their desk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, here is my second chapter! Please, review and let me know if I should go on! Love, ficwriter**

"Mr. Potter," said an unnervingly calm voice. "I assu – who… who is under your desk?" What seemed to have been a rehearsed statement that man was about to say got interrupted by that question as Chase found two beady black eyes and a sallow-looking face, as long as its nose peering down at him. Chase's heart skipped in shock.

"He's a muggle, sir," said the girl, confidently. "A doctor to be precise."

The two boys, and many of the students, who were also aware of Chase hiding there, turned to the girl with surprise and yet with non-surprise. Chase stared at her with surprise. _Muggle?_ he thought, astonished. _She knew from my white coat I was a doctor. But a muggle? Has House sent me here? Does Muggle stand for useless doctor?_ Chase looked around, uncomfortable. _Is this some kind of play?_

"A doctor?" Ron yelped, frightened. Some of the students had the same reaction, as well. Chase glanced round at them with wide angered and confused eyes. "You mean those who stick needles in you and cut your organs in half?"

Girls' screams now echoed through the room.

"Silence," the professor said just once, and the whole classroom fell instantly into dead quiet. He looked down at Chase for a few moments.

"Come with me," Professor Snape then uttered, and grabbed Chase's coat, leading him out of the classroom. The teacher put an extremely annoying-looking student white blond hair in charge before he left the classroom with Chase.

"Let – go – of – me," Chase warned Snape, though not very convincingly. Snape had a sort of power over him. Like when House was around, and so he struggled unsuccessfully to be himself now without him and tell that atrocious man off.

Snape didn't listen. He lead Chase into what appeared to be the teacher's lounge, with grown-ups sipping tea, all dressed in the same flowing mad robes.

Chase stared in astonished displeasure at them the instance he walked in with Snape. "What is this?" he asked. "Bathrobe Monday?"

Snape dropped the befuddled doctor on a chair, which felt quite comfortable to the man. "I found that wretch in my classroom," Snape said, and as curtly, he swished his black robe around and left the classroom.

The teachers stared after him, and then back at Chase with the same bewildered they'd had on him since he came. Chase watched them in the comfort of his chair. There was a stout-looking teacher with curly brown hair, another man and a tall woman in dark green robes, almost black with squared glasses resting on her pointed nose. Her hair was wrapped neatly back in a bun. Chase was no longer in the mood for talking. He let them start instead.

However, when the teachers started their conversation, they didn't include him. They started talking _about_ him to one another, as though he was some kind of disposable bird that had accidentally landed in their midst. Chase slipped forward in his chair more and more, disbelieving that discussion.

"I don't think he wields a wand. _Strippagolous_!" cried the burly-haired stout woman. Chase gasped. He felt all of his clothes depart his body then quickly wrap themselves against him again. He was panting, making sure each item he had on this morning was on him, and that he had only imagined that happening. But when he looked at the teachers, his face fell. He couldn't believe that it _had _happened, that he was stripped off his clothes for a second, for what else could explain those teachers now fiddling with his stuff?

The stout woman held a strange, but elegant, brown stick in her right hand as her left toyed with Chase's own stethoscope. The tall teacher on her left had his test samples, now opening them and sniffing the biopsy he'd forgotten about in his coat since last week's case. Chase winced at that, and the third male teacher, also very short, was peering at a hot pink pair of Cameron's undies.

Chase stared at all three of them in horror.

"No," said the stout teacher, still looking at his stethoscope. "No wand. Just that stuff he was carrying."

"It's like Hermione had said," said the tall one with a puff of repulsion, as she pressed her sleeve against her nostrils. She waved the vile around before she could hurriedly and with disgust cap it again and toss it at Chase, who reflexively caught it from the air. "He seems to be one of those Muggle Healers."

"You mean a doctor?" said the male teacher with fascination. "Those men who cut people open."

"Hey," Chase muttered contemptuously. It was the second time he'd heard such a thing and he wasn't going to take it. "We don't cut people open, well, yes, we do, but not for our own amusement, okay? We save lives."

The three teachers continued to examine him and his stuff, but didn't seem affected by anything he said. Finally, the tall one in the middle took the panties and the stethoscope from the others, and hurried towards Chase, thrusting his stuff into his hands.

"If you would take him to Dumbledore, Professor Sprout," she said. "He might be harmless, but those who sent him might not be."


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't like this chapter much; it's when Chase meets Dumbledore. It's a too crazy too soon some kind of chapter. I might edit it later, but now I just want to get to the good stuff asap ;)**

"Hey, that's Cameron's…" Chase could not believe his eyes. The stout woman, Professor Sprout, had arbitrarily called out "Lemon Sorbet" and Chase was about to finish his sentence with "… favorite dessert" when the gargoyle in front of them leaped to life and aside to show a luminous, alarming shaft-like vertical space, embedded with an upward moving spiral staircase. He was about to lose his mind or faint when the woman beside him shot up her stick and cried "_Expergiscere_" and Chase didn't know whether it was her shrill voice or the obvious spell that had waken him up.

Chase felt a shove in the small of his back and before he knew it, the moving gargoyle was jumping back into its original post and the magical door closed behind him, and he was being raised upwards on the stair step he'd landed on.

"Um," he muttered nervously, but he was also as quiet as he could be, not wanting any shaft monster or the one hiding under the stairs to pounce on him now. "Woman? Professor Ma'am?"

There was no answer, of course. He was already several meters higher than where he was standing a moment ago. He started looking around, trying to make sense of all this. He recounted the events in his head. First he was with the team in House's office and House. He was telling him how badly he sucked this morning and sent him out to get coffee. This wasn't a dream, was it?

Chase was sort of an expert in lucid dreaming. He looked at his watch, and the time it showed made perfect sense as he mathed the amount of time he'd spent since he stepped into this strange, nightmarish (counting the gargoyle and Snape's ingredients on the chalkboard), ancient world of robe-clad people. He looked up, shut his eyes, and then looked at his watch again. Same time. He looked at it for a third time, and the arrows stayed the same place. So he wasn't dreaming then. If he was dreaming, they would've changed completely, for in dream didn't keep up well with details.

He thought about the smudge he'd last touched before he was swallowed into here. Could it possibly have been an instant drug thing that gives you fantastic hallucinations through one slight touch? Or was the tip of his finger still touching it at the hospital now, making him see all of those visions through the contact of the smudge? But if so, someone who cared enough would at least turned him away from the coffee machine. Unless – _did I die?_

Suddenly, Chase found himself facing an elaborate door. It opened as soon as his senses took it in and they were now absorbing a tall man with a long silvery beard. His eyes a light blue of the sky that also reminded him of someone he knew very well, but he dismissed that thought. Something about this man, he didn't know what – could be his air of kindness, wisdom or patience, yet he doubted that – seemed far from resembling House.

"Enter," the man said. Chase pursed his lip in false superiority and strut inside the office, his steps becoming slower and more modest as he took in the wonders of this room. Hundreds of unrecognized objects filled every shelf, the portraits moved, seeming to have an embedded video-screen, yet they all stared at him.

"Where am I?" Chase said, never had meant to ask that question more than he did now.

The old man closed the door, and walked to over to the desk in the room, taking his time with his steps. Like the others, he wore robes; unlike the others, they were bright, light blue-colored robes.

"I'm Professor Dumbledore," explained the man, taking his seat behind his desk. "You came in time, Dr. Chase."

"How do you know my name?"

"One question at a time," answered the man with a rather frivolous smile hidden under his swarming white moustache. He drew out a stick like the one the teacher in the lounge had, and instantly Chase flinched. He had no time to cling onto his clothes, but coincidentally had enough time to suddenly remember where the atmosphere about this man derived from. His gay cousin Fred had that same atmosphere about him. He didn't know why irony always came at times like these.

Chase screamed. The man whipped the air with his stick, yet only another one of them comfortable chairs popped out of nowhere. Chase stared at it, taking out his stethoscope, automatically getting his heart rate checked.

"I need to get out of here," Chase muttered slowly, but not quietly enough so the man wouldn't hear him.

"Sit down, Robert. You are much smarter than that."

Chase whirled round at the professor, and saw that he had his hands neatly laced together on his desk, watching Chase with a bland expression. Chase deduced that the man could certainly right, and he started to use his better judgment, started to look around this room, or office, with a better eye.

"So," said Chase, a few minutes later, still not taking his chair. A hand rested on his chin, his finger stroking his lower fat lip. "This is some kind of magic?"

The professor nodded his head with the air of someone encouraging a very fresh beginner. Chase clung onto this cheer, though, no matter how small it was, he felt the support and smiled.

"Sit down," said the man calmly, after allowing him some more time to bask in the successful progress Chase made, for he'd done more than just pointing out something. He had accepted the place he was in.

"To answer your first question," the old man started, now in a strong, clear voice. "You are in Hogwarts Wizarding School, where they learn about magic, Dr. Chase."

Chase gave him a look of seeming impressed. "I didn't know they had schools for those things," said Chase, not knowing why he was interrupting. Because of his shame for that, he lost control of his ramblings. "In our world, they call them mental institutions."

"Silence," cried the man, clearly affected.

"I take it you're a wizard, too," Chase continued to blabber with a prominent stare up Dumbledore's pointy hat. A muscle in Dumbledore's now reddened face twitched. It caught Chase's attention and he glanced down at it with a surprised wince.

"Are you always suffering from ranging stress disorders, sir?"

"No," said Dumbledore hotly, with an obvious failed attempt to sound calm.

"I take it you are the principle of this school."

"The Headmaster, yes."

"Hmm," said Chase, sitting back in his chair fondly, taking in his unusual but definitely striking surroundings. Then something struck him. He angled his head to the man. "Exactly, why am I here?"

Dumbledore smirked. Chase had the feeling that if he had stayed a bit quieter throughout this conversation, the Headmaster's smile wouldn't've looked so vindictive.

"Listen," Chase said with a blink of his grey eyes. "If you want something from me, just ask. But don't bring me into this rabbit hole and stare at me like I'm an alien. A lot more would be done to you if you would visit my world."

"As a matter of fact, I do want something from you," Dumbledore voiced deeply, with that breath of an old, wise man that seemed to come from many far lands away."

Chase silently cursed himself for forgetting who he was talking to. If he hadn't forgotten how gay the Headmaster seemed to be, he would have rephrased his sentence, but it was too late now. "Is it ph-ph-physical?" asked Chase in his sure Aussie accent.

"Yes, certainly it is," came Dumbledore's prompt answer.

Chase smiled and nodded, but soon after he jumped out of his chair and ran to the door he'd come through. It didn't budge, yet he kept trying the handle. He couldn't actually find the handle.

Behind him, Dumbledore searched his desk in a rage, his expression from the last sure one he'd shown while answering Chase's question clearly changed.

"Enough of that," snapped the old man, retrieving his stick, which to Chase, it was now clear that it was a wand. The man aimed it at Chase and Chase felt himself return to his chair again without his will.

The old man put his wand next to him on the desk, still frowning behind his half-moon glasses. "What's wrong with you, _sir_? I supposed doctors held their grounds more firmly than that."

"Hold my grounds for what?" spat Chase anxiously amidst his desperate withering on the chair he seemed to be magically glued to. "You're talking like I have something to gain here." His face was red and puffy now; he arched his back upwards, giving it his utmost strength in getting off the chair. But whenever he removed a limb or part of his body, another part stuck. The image he saw in his mind with what that man seemed to do to him wasn't pretty, no matter how pretty Chase still looked in it; on the other hand, his beauty was the trigger here.

"I shouldn't have let this happen," cried Chase. "I refuse to get raped by an old man!"

Dumbledore had been trying to verbally calm Chase, but when Chase said that, Dumbledore gaped, and at the same moment, the door of his office flung open.

"What is all that racket about?"

Dumbledore's face darted to the woman at the door, the same one who escorted Chase here, and instantly climbed to his feet. "Nothing, nothing, Pomona," looking back at Chase with a bright, yet sagacious smile, "Just a little understanding." And he arced his brow warningly and amusingly at Chase. Chase comprehended Dumbledore's look and in a surge of relief, nodded subtly and reattached himself properly in the chair.

"Come have a seat." Another spark of Dumbledore's spark now shot out another chair next to Chase's and Professor Sprout occupied it. She seemed to be very much at ease in that office and Chase didn't remember envying anyone more in his life. He didn't know why, though. Maybe, he thought, if someone like Cameron and who was not a doctor, yet probably worked in some other kind of job, one that didn't require every answer to be as accurate as one plus one equals two, they'd enjoy that kind of thing more, and would be here feeling excited about all of it. This was the first time he felt like he could be better off not being a doctor. Yet, the words that came next out of Dumbledore's mouth caused Chase to take that thought back.

"Dr. Chase is a very skilled and clever doctor, Professor Sprout. One of the main reasons we need him here."

"How long is he going to stay?"

"Goodness, Pomona. The man has a job." He looked back at Chase with that cheerful, knowing light smile. "We won't keep him for long."

"What are the other main reason I'm here for?" asked Chase. He hadn't removed his eyes from Dumbledore all the while.

Dumbledore raised a finger, as though telling Chase "Hold on a sec" and with his other hand fumbled inside the pocket of his robe. Then Dumbledore bent over his desk so that Chase could see what was in his hand clearly. Chase's eyes acted as though they had jumped out of their sockets. He recognized the transparent yellow tubular plastic vile instantly, through which he saw Dumbledore's warped face. The label read Gregory House. It was the same prescription bottle House used for his Vicodin.

Chase slowly took the bottle from Dumbledore. It was almost empty, the lights of the candles in this room causing the yellow of its plastic to become so enticingly aglow. Cameron would so be having an orgasm right now if she saw Chase holding House's bottle of Vicodin.

"Is it from his secret stash?" Chase asked eagerly, as though he was an eight-year-old who was given the latest edition of his favorite video game console.

Dumbledore serenely shook his head. Chase's eagerness tripled.

"His secret, _secret_ stash?"

Again, Dumbledore negated that. Chase now looked disappointed, yet gathering some more hope, he hesitantly said, "His secret, _secret_, _SECRET_ stash?"

Dumbledore shook his head forcefully, and parted his lips. "I got it from his desk in the office."

Chase looked horrifically disappointed now. Like he'd just figured out Batman only wore a suit to hide a very foul rash.

"However," said the Headmaster importantly, standing up from his desk with an air of authoritative and sharp-witted dynamism. "I want you," pausing to lean towards one of the small closed cubicle in one of his shelves, his back to Chase and Sprout. Chase could hear him slide open its drawer. "To fill it up," said the Headmaster, returning to his post. Then simply with a kindness in his tone, he added, "With these."


	4. Chapter 4

**Forgot to add my intro for this chapter, lol. Things were getting weirder by the second as I wrote this, but I can't wait for Chase's adventure with the Harry Potter trio :)))) Yum. **

"Interesting," said Chase, and like a teacher reacting to a student's good but off-the-point essay.

Cradled in Professor Dumbledore's palm was a modest quantity of shiny particles giving off a hint of pink.

"Looks like crushed diamonds to me," said Chase, but when he peered closer at those rock-edged grains, having a sense of meticulous observation of a doctor, he saw that in each of them moved a milky smoke-like snaky haze. It had a liquid-like quality to it. "Hmm," he then breathed, unimpressed. "There we go with the magic again." He looked up at the professor, pointed a finger to his white palm. "Are those supposed to make your head spin, or turn your ears into big fans, or something medically illogical like that?"

"They are Dust Brains," cried Professor Dumbledore effectively. "Each grain of these will switch your brain usage one-eighty degrees."

"You're serious," Chase said, more like an exclamation than a question. "What do you want to do with these?"

"Switch House's brain, of course," Dumbledore explained, a smile on the corner of his silver hair-stashed mouth. "There's not a chance he would see this world the way you see it now. He will completely shut his eyes to it, and perceive it as one of his drug-enthused hallucinations – which I'm sure, won't stop him from taking his Vicodin this time also," he added with a disproving tone. "To House, worlds like ours only exist in people who need to have their brains cut open and manually adjusted. I heard he did that to a patient once. He couldn't stand her imagination. However, his boiling malice towards her when she was still able to use it after she'd been cured proved to me that it was something which lack of in his life made him purely unhappy, and he was aware of that. House needs a change of mind, or else, how do you expect him to help our little Ginny?"

"What?" said Chase momentarily.

"Ginny needs to be saved," explained Dumbledore again. "She has a condition in her lungs that doesn't allow her to jump over the Giant Ramp to get to Phogenous."

"Who?"

"Phogenous is a very prominent Constellation in the June and July stars. She needs to race over that ramp and reach him, to have the conversation she's meant to have about the wars breaking."

"Ek – excuse me?" Chase shifted really uncomfortably in his chair. The woman beside him, Mrs. Sprout as he recalled, focused on the tip of her wand like a woman would look at her nails when she didn't want to say what she was thinking of. He knew he looked stupid to her, but they looked even crazier than he'd imagined.

"The Prophecy says so," said Dumbledore in a darkly mood, glowering more and more at Chase, like it was some textbook Chase was supposed to be aware of, let alone capable of absorbing it. "By the last June of the year the war is meant to break in, a girl from the Weasley family of the Burrow will fly over the Giant Ramp, shooting to the stars to find Sir Constel Phogenous and negotiate with him to keep the flaming stars to our side. They will refrain from lighting the way for the enemy, and will send their energies through our side's bodies."

"Hmm," said Chase again. "Good story." He looked around like he was casually waiting for another conversation to start, looked at his watch and jumped. "Holy Jesus, I've got a case to go back to." Then he turned up to Dumbledore expectantly, his wrist still raised to his nose.

"So you agree then, Dr. Chase," said Dumbledore, as though he wouldn't take no for an answer. He took the bottle of Vicodin from Chase's front on the desk, emptied it completely, making a sign to Professor Sprout, who with her wand made the remaining pills on his leather padded desk vanish. Then he peered down from his half-moon shaped glasses at the sparkly salmon-tinted sand in his hand, giving off a greyish glow, and said carefully, pointing his wand with the other, "We'll have to disguise it, of course."

Chase realized what the man was doing.

"Wait, I didn't say I would…"

POOF!

The sand along with its glow on Dumbledore's palm vanished, replaced by House's very own, very familiar Vicodin pills.

"Impressing," breathed Chase, staring at them. "Wait, I think he's going to need a lot more of those."

Dumbledore arced his lip humorously, but instantly snapped his wand above the pills again and they multiplied. Then keeping his wand raised, he lowered his pill-filled palm under his desk, but the pills remained hovering in the place they were in, and moving his wand slowly, they neatly filled the open bottle by themselves. Dumbledore took the lid and closed it tight; handing it to Chase like a gift that had been wrapped.

Staring at it with a hungry smile, Chase took it.

"This will activate House's right side brain, making him believe in the Wizarding World and not throw jokes every time he turns his head in Hogwarts," the Headmaster stated firmly, sitting back in his chair authoritatively. Chase let out a flimsy giggle.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said. "Sorry to say, too, that it will happen anyway."

"Well, yes, we could all enjoy a bit of sarcasm, but not to the point that would create a solid barrier between him and us."

"Nice meeting you," said Chase truthfully, reaching out a hand that didn't exceed the edge of the man's leather-padded desk on Chase's side. Dumbledore stretched out his and shook hands with Chase, who goggled at the light blue hem of his sleeve, silvery embroidered. He turned up to the Headmaster's equally silvery beard that answered sparkles to the ones his clothes gave out, and nodded politely with pursed lips.

Professor Sprout rose behind him and led him to the door. "We will see you again soon," she said gaily.

"Wait, how?"

"We'll have our ways of contacting you," he heard the Headmaster's placid voice from inside the office, sounding occupied already.

"Cool," said Chase, and "Sayonara," in his Australian accent. He hopped backwards onto the spiral staircase, which now spiraled down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Yeeeey, chapter five! Things are really going slow now because I'm worried of the crazy turn this story is going to take. But I'd like my reader's opinion, are you okay with crazy s***? Let me know :D **

**I might also add some total romance; a thing like that can't pass up Chase's blue eyes, can it?**

**I'm busy with work so I'm not going to be updating as often as I'd hope; just to let readers know, I'm not bailing. I have plans for this one, yeah, I do…**

Chase was surprised. The moment he had gone through the door, where the gargoyle stood outside of, he found himself entering House's very own office, finding the original sun-streaming open blinds of his windows, and usual colors of an ordinary world with tables and coffee machines. The rest of the team sat there in different seats but in the same manners, shooting out more suggestions in the manner when a treatment had turned out to be for a wrong diagnosis. That usually happens after more than half a House M.D. episode's time. Chase frowned, looking around, overcome by a second shook.

'Dammit, how long was I gone?'

'About two hours,' Cameron said. House gave him the once-over.

'You took a two-hour prance around the halls, and you forgot to bring me my coffee?' House said, pretentiously appalled. 'Never mind, mate. We'll leave that to your guardian angels to take care of. Meanwhile, I guess I wouldn't be wasting time to tell you that we'd pretty much made a good progress in your absence, or should I say because of it–'

'House!' cried Chase, interrupting him. 'You wouldn't believe it! I've been elsewhere. Completely elsewhere,' he couldn't help exclaiming. He met House's eyes so his boss could see how serious he really was now, saying this, 'And they want me to manipulate you. I told them I was gonna do it, but I now I–'

'What in God's hell's name are you talking about?' House said with a very dark look, bending over his cane at him. 'Get away from my office.'

Chase looked as though he was about to cry. He sensed a caring look from Cameron, and stormed out of the office, before he could get a glance at Foreman's face. Chase hissed, his face in his hands, his eyes red once he looked at them in the mirror.

How could House do that? Sure, he was mean, but he always listened, if not for the interest of others, then for his own sick one. Chase gnashed at the towel he held in his hands, threw it in the bin so hard its thud sounded like he'd thrown a huge stone in there. But before he could get out of the bathroom, he stopped before the door, and remained standing there quietly. Then his hand reached into his pocket and he took out the yellow bottle of Vicodin. Was Chase that evil?

No, the question was, was House really such an acute observer? Of course, he was, but the unreasonable yell he'd given Chase just now made Chase doubt the man at that moment. House wouldn't have thrown him out of his office unless there was a good reason, and it wasn't because Chase was distracting the team. House would let any conversation take place as long as it served his interest and it wouldn't matter if it had nothing to do with their case, or was during a patient's critical time. So it wasn't distraction House held Chase accountable for, or deviation. It was because this deviation didn't matter or make sense to House.

Dumbledore was right. House needed those sand pills. House needed them desperately. He needed to stop rationalizing, and start unrationalizing. Maybe he would listen to Chase next time he starts telling him about Hogwarts and not humiliate him in front of his colleagues.

'It would do the world some good,' said Chase bitterly, looking down at the bottle lying flat in his palm. Now all he needed was a plan to start that meanie's mouth working with those pills.

James Wilson, M.D., the brass lettering on the door read. Chase occupied the green or purple couch behind that door's room, looking over at the busy man, reading some files.

'Just… take your time,' Chase said, pleasingly, spreading his arms on the back of the couch and taking his time to take in his surroundings. He'd never had time to do so. Wilson looked up from his file speculatively.

'Are you okay, Chase? It's strange that you don't have any tests to run at this hour,' he said, looking at his watch, still holding the file with the right one.

'House is a moron,' Chase spoke. 'Yeah, you heard me,' he added without turning his face away from the ceiling. He had his head bent back against the couch.

Wilson still looked a little offended and taken aback, but he uttered kindly with sarcasm in his tone, 'I assume House must've said something terrible, but why haven't you been hear every other hour in my office for the last two years? Why just now?'

'You guessed it,' said Chase with a lazy, indulgent sigh. 'I'm not only here to complain.'

'Why are you here then?' asked Wilson with aggravated eyebrows.

Chase drew out a long breath. 'James,' he said. Wilson raised his brows. Why the hell was Robert firstnaming him now?

'I need your help,' Chase let out. 'Yes,' he added as Wilson kept staring at him. Chase knew, and not because Wilson liked Chase, that House's best friend or friend always went on the team's side when he heard House mistreated them by being himself. Wilson did that once, he lost it when he found out that House took out his assholity on Chase, and then Wilson lost it when nothing else made him lose it before, and that was for House's benefit, to make House a better person. Chase was going to use Wilson's weapon and use his good intentions and high knowledge of House to get the damn house take the pills.

There was no way in his boss's hell that Chase was going to switch bottles without House noticing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey. I've started work, so it's taking me really long to update, sorry :( House will start to get a little weird now, assuming the effect of the pills didn't take the correct, desired result? Maybe…**

'How… how can I help you?' said Wilson, and then he blinked twice. Chase looked at him, gravely now, then smacked his lips together and stood up as he started pacing the office.

'I want to give House something that belongs to him, but then he might refuse to take them from me since I'd be the one to give it to him, you understand me?' Chase stopped to look at him.

Wilson blinked four times, speedily.

Chase sighed, 'I thought so,' lowering his head, and started pacing again. While he did so, he took out the Dust Brains bottle from his pocket and stared at it, while Wilson watched. A minute later, Chase heard the desired grunt coming from behind Wilson's desk, and turned to see the man get up and walk towards him.

'Oh, Chase, you took Greg's pills,' he said, coming to a stand in front of the Australian, causing him to stop as they stood face to face now, Vicodin bottle still in Chase's rasied hand. Wilson put his hands on his hips, drew out a disapproving sigh and then took the bottle out Chase's hand, and walked out of the office. Chase stared for a moment at what just happened, then followed Wilson, who was going straight towards House's office.

Chase was again overcome by the familiarity of his group, sitting in their chairs by talking House. 'Wilson…' he said, acting surprised. Then, really angry as the next guy appeared behind him, 'And Chase!'

House stood up, dragging his cane along. 'What have you two been planning?'

Wilson threw House's Vicodin bottle, which wasn't exactly House's, Chase pointed with a secret smile, into House's chest. House grabbed it and tossed it once in the air, grabbed it again to examine it with genuine surprise.

'Chase had these when he came into my office,' Wilson announced. 'Obviously, he took them from you.'

'I have my pills,' House said. 'Using the last prescription you gave me.' He took out an identical bottle from his own pocket and popped several pills out of it into his mouth while talking. Chase was hyperventilating, feeling more nervous by the second. His plan had enormously failed, even though he still hadn't anything clearly planned in his mind yet. He knew Wilson was the only and best resort, that's all he knew.

'Then what are those?' breathed Wilson, staring at the other one still in House's hand.

'Ask him,' House said indifferently. 'Maybe he has a problem with a secret limb we're not aware of.'

'Alright,' said Chase, causing all four to turn to him, but he couldn't just stand there and watch the scene unfold before him. He had to step in and do what Dumble… _what was his name?_ told him to do. Also, it would be surreal watching House talk to an elf, Chase added with amusement. 'I… well, something happened when you threw me out the first time.'

Wilson turned to House, like a mother scolding him. 'You threw Chase out of your office?' Chase was surprised at seeing the concern he wanted Wilson to get back in his own office show now. 'Why?'

'That's not the point, look,' Chase said with a palliative hand towards Wilson. 'I went somewhere.'

'Some_where_,' House yelled, having had trouble with Chase since morning. Chase smiled at the thought he was making him SUFFER.

'Anyway,' Chase said, blinking to concentrate more on the problem rather than the pleasure of annoying House. 'There's a place called Hogwarts. It's a school, and I've been there, and this wizard gave me…'

'A w…' said House, eyes glaring brightly, his mouth stuck on the 'w', purely not seeming to believe that he was about to say what he actually heard Chase say. 'You know what?' House said, more relaxed, shaking his head. 'I say we just give him his Vicodin. Here.' He spilled a few in his palm and stretched it out to Chase. 'Take them, if that's what this is all about.'

'I'm not fooling you into letting me have some of your pills,' Chase said. 'And I didn't use someone else's prescription either.'

'I know,' House said with a shrug. 'But still, I'm letting you take some. You have my permission, of course, not Cuddy's permission, nor the cops, but here.'

Chase looked as though he was about to cry, staring at House, while stubbornly refusing to glance at the pills in his hand.

'Why not, why not just let him say what he has to say?' Cameron chimed in. Chase could hear the concern and empathy in her voice, and he heard the reasonableness in Foreman's voice when he said, 'We have a few minutes to spare.' But Chase knew Foreman's rationality was clouded with empathy, too.

Chase drew out a sigh of relief slowly, then lifted his starry eyes to House.

'It has to be interesting,' House said, resignedly, plopping into a chair and hanging the cane on its back.

'Alright, I got somehow sucked into another dimension. Call it hallucination, but the bottle in your hand is proof. The Headmaster of the school gave it to me to give to you.' Chase glanced hungrily from the pill to House. 'It's not Vicodin,' he said with an insane look and in a low excited whisper. 'It's something else called Dust Brains the Headmaster enchanted to make you take them.'

House stared at him for a while, twisting his cane now slowly in his hand. Then he lifted up his chin, and opening Chase's bottle of Vicodin. 'Say this wizard of yours, the Headmaster – I assume he's a wizard, too, right? – wants to give me special pills underhandedly, but the trick is that not only do they look or taste like Vicodin, they're actually magic…' A that moment, House spilled a few pills onto his palm and slipped them into his mouth.

A chorus from Cameron, Foreman and Wilson cried, 'No!'

House looked at them with an expression of mixed pleasure and surprise. 'What, did you think Chase was actually telling the truth about a wizard?'

'No, but who knows what could actually be in those pills.'

House still gazed at them. 'You mean Chase has given me laxatives, what a cruel practical joke to play on his boss,' he said, mockingly.

'Well…' Cameron started. 'You have been sort of an ass to him this morning.'

House gave an expression of mock horror. 'You're calling me an ass?' But suddenly, there was real anger in his voice. 'Okay, that's enough nonsense out of the three of you. Get to work now!'

Wilson remained standing with his mouth open, being struck by his friend's raucous yell, too. 'Okay, I'll just…' He pointed at the door, then ran out.

Chase on the other hand was doing a dance in the corner of the room. 'He… took… the… pills,' he whispered to himself. No one heard him, but they were all staring at him with the same face Wilson had just given House.


End file.
